CrazyAngel

*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-check. You have been forewarned.

*.*

Aaron Timms hated Christmas. His father, a sergeant with the Colfax Police Department was killed on Christmas. Sergeant Michael Timms and his partner Officer Paul vargess had been called out to a domestic disturbance. As the two officers approached the modest home, shots rang out. Both police officers died before help could arrive.

Christmas Day, 1988, Stacie Timms, Aaron's mother disclosed to the family that she'd been diagnosed with breast cancer. Even though she urged everyone to celebrate, enjoy Christmas, no one smiled, no one celebrated.

On December 25, 1990, Aaron Timms was in a humbee crossing from Kuwait into Iraq. Someone said, 'Oh yeah, Merry fucking Christmas' and suddenly, there was a bright flash and a loud roar.

Aaron still suffered tremendous headaches from the head trauma he suffered that day. His five buddies, however, died in the explosion.

In 2003, the day after Christmas, Aaron found out that Michael, his son, was not his son. The last time Aaron had seen Michael, now named David, the boy had not even recognized him.

"Merry fucking Christmas," forty four year old Aaron Timms thought when his supervisor informed Aaron, and ninety six of his fellow employees that Brumfield Recycling was closing down.

Technically, it was December 21, but it was close enough to Christmas to count. The radio stations were blaring insipid Christmas songs, people were smiling and wishing one another 'Merry Christmas' and there were decorations strewn about.

The lunch room had been decorated with large snowflakes, festive Santas and candy canes. Now, a few hours after receiving the news of their impending layoffs, the gay decorations looked sad, out of place.

The day after Christmas, Aaron sat in his living room, not watching the blaring television. He rubbed the four day growth of stubble on his chin and moved to stand up. Then he sat back down again.

"Well, now what?" he asked, looking around his home.

He had grown up in this house. His father and mother had bought it when Stacie discovered that she was pregnant with Aaron. Every penny the police officer and his wife could put into the home, they did. When Sergeant Timms was killed, Stacie used a large portion of his life insurance and paid the house off. Then when she died, her insurance went into a trust for Aaron. He had never touched it, even though the two hundred and fifty thousand became available the day after his twenty first birthday.

"Know what? Always said you regretted not going to college. Well, buddy boy, nothing stopping you now, huh?" Aaron said, the first smile creasing his face since getting the news of his layoff.

The web site of Missouri River State University said he was too late to enroll for their spring semester. The cutoff date for Harvester's College, however, was the next day, so Aaron filled out all the on-line forms.

Checking his email in-box, Aaron smiled when he saw the 'Welcome to Harvester's College' notice. He whistled as he went up the stairs to the bedroom that had been his parents' room. He laid out a change of clothes, stepped into the bathroom, and began the laborious task of hacking through the dense growth on his face. Then he brushed his filmy teeth, and jumped into the shower to scrape his skin clean.

His first semester was harder than Aaron had anticipated. He found himself having to take remedial courses; it had been twenty seven years since his high school graduation. But he smiled proudly at the end of the semester, having passed those courses with A's.

Summer was also a whirlwind of activity; Aaron was taking nine hours and it seemed that his days were classes, study, classes, study. In between classes and studies, he had to find time to sleep, to eat, to shower.

Fall semester, Aaron signed up for twelve hours. In between the spring and summer semesters, he rekindled his passion for numbers; he'd been a little bit of a mathematics prodigy in his high school years. His brain injury had jarred some of the reasoning ability out of him but college seemed to be bringing it all back.

Another thing Aaron loved about college was the girls. In the beginning of the spring semester, with snow still heavy on the ground, the girls all bundled up. Toward the end of the spring semester, hints of skin began to show up here and there. The summer semester had girls strolling the beautiful, lush campus in cutoff shorts, beautiful buttocks wiggling and jiggling about, midriff baring shirts and halter tops that had beautiful breasts of all shapes, sizes and colors bouncing and wobbling and jiggling about.

Still blazing hot in September in Colfax, Missouri, the fall semester started off with more of the same. Beautiful buttocks, sweet morsels of breasts all about. Aaron did not fool himself. To the vast majority of the students, samsun escort he was an old man. He was old enough to be the father of most of his classmates. He was even older than many of his instructors.

"But looking is free," Aaron thought as he followed a delectable set of butt cheeks from parking lot to Wilson Hall for his Trigonometry class.

The girl was short, only five feet one and was slender. Her legs were well shaped, only a small hint of fat, her waist was narrow, bared in the halter top she had tied around her torso.

Her blonde hair swished back and forth in a ponytail. Aaron almost wanted to reach out and playfully tug on the hank of hair.

He tore his eyes away from her cute buttocks and checked his card; room 223. To his delight, the cute buttocks approached the outdoor stairwell and the shapely thighs pistoned up the ****l stairs to the second floor. Aaron followed, watching her buttocks flex and stretch, undulating as she climbed the twenty four steps from ground to second level.

She entered Room 223 and took a seat in the front of the room. For the first time, Aaron saw her face; she had a small, pixie like face with just a sprinkle of freckles across her small nose.

Her chest was small and her belly had just a hint of softness to it. She put her book bag on the floor between her sandaled feet, bent and began rummaging around.

Aaron took the seat directly behind her and watched her buttocks strain the material of her denim while she rummaged in her bag. More and more of her rear end was exposed as she searched.

"You are kidding me. You are just kidding me," she muttered.

"Problem?" Aaron asked.

"Pencil. I forgot to bring a pencil," she snapped. "I can't even find a damned pen."

"Got one you can have," Aaron said, pulling out a brand new, unsharpened pencil.

"You're a real sweetie," the girl smiled, accepting the pencil.

Aaron watched as the girl scampered over to the mounted pencil sharpener and vigorously ground a point onto the pencil. Her whole body shook with the strain. She smiled at him as she took her seat and dug out a notebook.

"Aaron Timms," Aaron said as she started to write.

"Hmm? Oh! Jamie. Jamie Norman," she said, twisting in her desk.

She extended a small hand and Aaron smiled and shook her hand. Part of the reason he smiled was that, as she twisted, the side of her halter had caught onto the top rung of her seat. He had a beautiful side view of her small breast and light Broun nipple.

After class, Aaron ducked into a bathroom. He found an empty stall and sat.

"Aw yeah, would fuck the shit out of her," someone said as the bathroom door banged open.

"No shit. And dressed like that, ass all hanging out, know she'd love every fucking minute of it," another voice chortled.

The two continued to talk about a classmate, urinating noisily. Their opinion seemed to be that the girl was a total slut, with a 'come fuck me' sign on her forehead.

Aaron finished and flushed. He stepped out and recognized the now silent young men from his Trigonometry class.

"You know," Aaron said quietly as he washed his hands. "That young lady is someone's daughter. Someone rocked her to sleep, read bedtime stories to her, taught her how to ride a bike, pushed her on a swing. Someone hugged her when her first crush didn't like her, someone took her to soccer games, took her to her first day of school. Someone loved her."

Aaron dried his hands on a few paper towels. He then dropped the damp towels into an overflowing wastebasket.

"That's someone's little girl. And I'm sure they didn't put all that time and energy into raising that little girl just so that you two could fuck the shit out of her. They didn't watch her grow up just to suck the dick snot out of your pathetic little wee-wees," Aaron said and left the bathroom.

"Faggot," one of the young men said a moment later.

"Yeah," his friend agreed.

Three weeks after the start of the semester, Aaron smiled as the professor put their first tests on their desks. He frowned, though, when he saw a '98' instead of the expected '100' on his test.

"Oh," he said, when he found the offending error.

"What?" Jamie squealed.

Looking over her bare shoulder, Aaron saw a '76' on her paper.

After the tests had been distributed, after the murmurs died down, the professor scribbled out that day's material. He spoke in his Southern drawl as he did so, never stopping in either scribbling or lecturing.

"Questions?" he finally said, turning around.

"What'd you get?" Jamie asked Aaron as the class came to an end.

"Ninety eight. You?" Aaron asked, as if he had not peeked over her shoulder.

"Seventy six. And I don't see what I did wrong," she said, almost in tears.

"I, hmm, I've got Western Civilization after this, then I'm free," Aaron said. "How about we get together? Go over this?"

"Oh! Would you?" Jamie asked, cute face twisted in a smile.

"Yeah, urfa escort tell you what. We'll go back to my house, make us some lunch, then we'll go over this, okay?" Aaron said.

"Meet you in front of McGuire's?" she asked.

"It's a date," Aaron agreed.

He ducked into the bathroom, thankful that his World Civilization class was in the next building, McGuire Hall. He stood at the urinal trough and relieved his bladder.

"Believe that old fag got a date with that slut?" he heard as the bathroom door slammed open.

"Yeah, fucking believe that?" another voice said.

Aaron shook his cock clean. Turning, he saw that it was the two young men he'd lectured about their attitudes on the first day of class. Both young men suddenly decided they didn't need the facilities and bolted.

Coming out of McGuire Hall, Aaron saw Jamie, chatting with a handsome young man. He felt a sudden twinge of jealousy, watching the young beauty and the flexing, posturing young man. When Jamie spotted Aaron though, she abruptly waved her male admirer away.

"Hi, ready to go?" Jamie asked brightly.

"You, uh, sure wouldn't rather be with your buddy?" Aaron asked.

"Timmy? Yeah, right," Jamie scoffed. "Played one too many games with no helmet."

He guided Jamie toward his car, a 1974 Ford LTD. His father had driven one, and after his death, his mother had driven the steel gray LTD until her own passing in 1989. After his discharge from the Reserves, Aaron had bought a truly hideous lime green LTD, had it repainted a charcoal blue. Most of the work, he did himself, just as his father and his mother had done.

On the way to his home, Aaron talked, Jamie texted. At Aaron's home, Jamie let out a little squeal, then complimented him on his beautiful garden

"Thanks. They were my mother's," Aaron said. "Was with her day she bought that windmill. Took me almost a whole month sand all the blue paint off it just so she could turn around and paint it white."

"But it's perfect," Jamie enthused.

Aaron urged her up the four steps, admiring her sweetly rounded buttocks as he followed her.

In the kitchen, he made a quick chicken salad and toasted four pieces of bread. They ate quietly until the last bite.

"All right, now, get that test out and let's see," Aaron said.

They sat, side by side and worked on problems. After a few moments, Jamie let out a little squeal, then clapped her hands.

"Now I get it," she enthused.

"Okay, prove it. Do the next one," Aaron said.

"And then you..." Jamie said, sucking on her bottom lip in an adorable fashion.

"By Jove, I think she's got it," Aaron smiled and patted her on her upper thigh.

Her skin was so soft, so smooth, so warm. Aaron resisted the urge to squeeze the succulent flesh. Instead, he pulled out his notes from that day's lesson and together, they did the homework assigned.

"Oh, thank you so much," Jamie giggled happily and hugged him.

"Welcome. Now, come on. Let me run you on home," Aaron said.

"Oh. I uh, you got something else you got do?" she asked.

"Well, no, but I uh, I'm sure you got something better do than hang around some old geezer," Aaron suggested.

"Not really," Jamie said.

Then she quickly said, "And you're not an old geezer."

"Be forty five in a couple of days," Aaron said, chuckling.

"Still, that's not old," Jamie said.

"Twice as old as you," Aaron smiled.

"How old you think I am?" Jamie challenged.

"Nineteen, maybe twenty," Aaron guessed.

"Yeah," Jamie agreed.

She asked him if he knew anything about Colonial Literature. She squealed in indignation when Aaron stated he'd been there when much of the literature had been written.

"That's not what I meant," she protested. "It's just that, you're so smart."

Aaron had taken Colonial Literature in his summer classes. Jamie had Professor Dawkins, the same professor Aaron had for the summer. So, she dug out her textbook and they studied the material.

"He sticks to his pattern, you'll be looking at Cotton Mathers next," Aaron said, finding his old notes.

She kissed him on his cheek. With a giggle, she wiped her lipstick from his cheek. He made a pot of coffee and dug out a package of oatmeal cinnamon cookies.

"Oh, thank God, no raisins," Jamie whooped.

"Not a fan of them either. "My mom? Used to dump a whole box of them into my oatmeal when I was a kid. And believe me, you did not tell my mom you didn't like what she cooked," Aaron smiled, sipping his coffee.

"Well, you going sit there and eat every bite, you hear me? There are children starving in Asia would die for what you've been given," Aaron imitated his mother's voice.

"What's that got to do with anything?" Jamie agreed.

She declined a ride home, texting someone to get her. A few moments later, they heard a car horn honk. He got a kiss on his cheek again, and then Jamie was gone.

After his next World Civilization class, Aaron found Jamie sinop escort waiting for him by his car. She smiled happily when he walked up.

"Hi. Can we study at your house again?" she asked.

She whistled when her bare buttocks made contact with the sunbaked vinyl seat. Aaron had her raise herself up slightly, then worked a towel underneath her. She smiled as she sat back down.

"Take care of your girl, huh?" she teased lightly.

"Uh huh," Aaron agreed.

After lunch, the two sat and worked on the homework together. Again, his reward was a soft little kiss to his cheek. With a giggle, she again wiped the print from his skin.

"You know, I was real worried, going to Harvester's," Jamie confessed. "I mean, I grew up here. And after what happened at my graduation... Well, let's just say, I really didn't want see any of them."

"What happened at your graduation?" Aaron asked.

"I uh, I really liked this Bobby Gandolphi," Jamie said, pretty eyes beginning to fill with tears.

Aaron dug out his handkerchief. Jamie took it and wadded it up in her small hands.

"Anyway, we're at Mary Beth's party, we're graduates! No more stupid school! And Mary Beth's brother bought us couple of kegs and we're all drinking and I kissed Bobby. On the lips and he kicked my ass," Jamie sniffled.

"I uh, over a kiss?" Aaron asked, shocked.

"I uh, well, yeah," Jamie shifted in her seat, looking away from Aaron.

"Hard to believe any boy would get that upset over a cute girl kissing him," Aaron said.

"I well, I uh, I wasn't exactly..." Jamie said, a hot blush on her face.

"Remember Maureen Kendricks kissing me at our graduation," Aaron said, looking at a spot on his kitchen wall. "Ugly? Good God! She put the Ugh in ugly. But all I did was laugh, give her a hug and went on my way."

"Suppose she'd been a boy?" Jamie asked quietly.

"Huh?" Aaron asked, peeling his eyes from the spot on the wall.

"Suppose Maureen had been, I don't know, uh, Mark instead of Maureen," Jamie said.

Aaron said nothing. He wasn't quite sure what Jamie was trying to say, or not say. Jamie twisted in her seat again.

"I uh, when I was, oh God, what? About five or six? I knew, I knew I was a girl," Jamie said.

Aaron felt a severe headache coming on. Whatever this cute little pixie was prattling about made no sense.

In an effort to alleviate the onset of the pain, Aaron got to his feet and began making a pot of coffee. Sometimes Caffeine helped.

"Cream and sugar, right?" he asked.

"I'm trying to tell you something," Jamie wailed.

"Then tell me; I can make coffee and listen," Aaron snapped.

"I was born James Norman Brumfield," Jamie shrilled.

"Brum, as in, Brumfield Recycling?" Aaron suddenly asked, almost shattering the carafe as he set it on the counter.

"My daddy," Jamie agreed.

Aaron remembered, a few years ago, Timothy Brumfield announcing his son's graduation from high school, smiling as his employees congratulated him. Then a few days later, an announcement went out, through the supervisors that Timothy's son had been in a horrific accident the night of his graduation. Aaron had chipped in five bucks to send the Brumfield family some flowers and a fruit basket.

"That, that was the accident? You were in a fight?" Aaron asked, pouring the cold water into the coffee machine.

"Wasn't no fight. God damned bastard almost killed me," Jamie said bitterly. "And my dad? My own father? Blamed me for it."

Aaron said nothing, just tried to will the excruciating pain away. The coffee pot gurgled and hissed merrily.

"Tried kill myself after," Jamie mumbled. "Took about twenty of my pills. But no. God's not finished fucking with me yet. My baby sister comes in try starting some shit, sees me turning blue."

Aaron fixed Jamie's cup of coffee and put it on the table in front of her. Then he finally made his own cup. The liquid was scalding hot, but he drank it, to wash the three aspirin down. A wave of nausea hit and he almost collapsed to the floor.

"So it's back to the hospital, but this time I'm in the Psych ward," Jamie mumbled, unaware of the crisis occurring right behind her.

"Ung!" Aaron moaned.

"Yeah, nothing like the smell of shit and vomit and Lysol®," Jamie said.

Aaron ground his teeth and prayed. His eyes felt like two red hot coals in his skull; he shut his eyes tightly against the searing pain.

"But at least, this time, they're listening to me," Jamie said and sipped her coffee. "God, how you get it so perfect?"

"Ung!" Aaron grunted, tightly gripping the counter.

"And finally, I get a psychiatrists agrees that I am a girl in a boy's body," Jamie said. "Of course, my dad's all like, 'you ain't no Brumfield,' and I'm like 'fine, I'll be anything but a Brumfield.' Norman was my middle name; it's my mom's maiden name, so now I go by Jamie Norman."

Aaron heard Jamie's sudden scream as he collapsed to the floor. He felt soft arms, he felt soft lips.

"Had a pretty bad one, huh?" Dr. Mizelle asked.

"Aw shit, what are you doing here?" Aaron spat as he looked around the hospital room.

"Good to see you too," the doctor said and took his small flashlight out of his pocket.